


Aiming to Please

by gayouijaboard



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Marvel Universe, NSFW, One Night Stands, One Shot, Reader-Insert, Smut, and very self serving, endgame spoilers, it’s probably v frowned upon, i’m just working through my grief here, please no one fuck at a funeral, post Endgame, this is dirty okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 05:59:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18654349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayouijaboard/pseuds/gayouijaboard
Summary: Years after the events of Endgame, Steve had finally passed away and you’ve somehow been roped into setting up for his wake. However, a mysterious and handsome blue eyes stranger seems to have... other plans.





	Aiming to Please

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y’all! Really quick, this does contain some slight endgame spoilers, so just be aware of that! I also wanna say that this is my first ever smut fic, so I’m still getting used to writing content like this! I hope you enjoy, and feel free to send any questions or comments my way!

How you’d been talked into setting up the kitchen for Captain America’s wake, you weren’t entirely sure. Wanda has definitely had something to do with it; part of you wanted to accuse her of having used her power, but you knew that wasn’t right. The girl was just very persuasive, and unfortunately for you, you were easily talked into things. That was never exactly something you’d considered to be a bad thing, but lately, the universe seemed to be on a special mission to prove you wrong.

Especially today, apparently.

The man watching you from across the countertop had come in early, introduced himself as James, and seemed to be on a quest to drown his sorrows in alcohol. Denying him hadn’t felt right — you had no idea who he was, or what his relationship to Steve Rogers had been. For all you knew, this guy was some unknown grandson, and something told you that karma would kick your ass if you poked that bear. So, you’d introduced yourself back and accepted James’ presence. Aside from a snarky comment here and there, he wasn’t much of a bother, so you became accustomed to him quickly.

And then the questions started up and, given that you were something of a captive thanks to all of the kitchen prep left to be done, you were hard pressed to find a way out of it.

“Did you know him well?”

You shrugged a shoulder, continuing to move about the kitchen as you set things up. Guests were already arriving, and Wanda was keeping them all distracted until you finished, but that would only stall for so long. Captain America’s wake was kind of a big deal, and there would be plenty of people itching to get drunk and make fools of themselves. “In a way, I guess. Wanda introduced us a few years back and he became a pretty involved donor to my charity. He’d invite me to lunch every now and then, and ask me about my life and my goals, things like that.” You paused a moment, chuckling to yourself as a fond memory resurfaced. “He was weirdly invested in my love life, though. Kept trying to set me up with some guy named Bucky he’d known forever, but I just told him I wasn’t ready for that sort of thing. He never really let that one go, actually. Mr. Rogers was stubborn like that.”

James nodded, knocking back another sip of his whiskey. With how many drinks he’d cleared in the short conversation you were having, it was a miracle he wasn’t already trashed. His tolerance must have been through the roof. “Yeah, he was.” His mind seemed to blank for a moment, eyes losing focus. When he came back out of it, his gaze was razor sharp, as if an epiphany had struck him. “What charity did you say you were running?”

“I didn’t” you said lightly, pointedly glancing around at all of the tasks in the kitchen that needed to be completed within the next twenty minutes. “But I might tell you if you make yourself useful.”

A slow grin unfurled on James’ lips, and the sight of it sent a shockwave of giddiness through your chest. “And how can I make myself useful to you?” he murmured, innocent tone not at all matching the provocative glint in his eye.

You blinked, train of thought lost in trying to figure out what gave this man the right to be as stupidly stunning as he was. Some part of your mind, one with zero common sense or decency, was imagining what his hand might feel like between your legs. The other part, much larger and aware of the fact that you were at a fucking  _funeral_ _service_ , made quick work of shaking that thought off completely. “Um, you can come...” He arched an eyebrow, gaze never wavering, and your cheeks flamed at where your words had faltered. Jesus, you really needed to get a grip. “Why don’t you get the plates down from the cabinets? You’re taller than me, you’ll probably have better luck.”

“Whatever you want, doll,” he laughed, brushing dangerously close to you.

You couldn’t help but track his movements as he went, scanning his body up and down. He looked damn good in a suit, and black seemed to do him every favor in the book. His shoulders strained against the fabric of his jacket as he reached up to grab the plates you had requested, and you found yourself wondering what it might feel like to have them embrace you.

James turned, catching you staring at his body. Your cheeks flamed and you instantly turned away, but if you’d delayed by just a second, you would have seen the mischievous smirk edging at his mouth.

There was silence for a few moments, and you could hear your heart thumping in your chest. You heard the noise of the plates being settled down in the counter, as well as James stepping away.

And then, suddenly, he was behind you.

His breath was in your ear, body pressed up against your back as he placed his arms on either side of you. Two things about this situation caught your attention immediately. The first was that, thanks to his arms, you were effectively trapped. The second was that at any moment someone might step into the kitchen and see you and this man doing... well, it wasn’t anything yet, but based on the burning sensation in the pit of your stomach, it could very well get there. “I don’t want to assume anything,” he murmured, lips brushing your ear as the sweet heat of his breath fanned over your skin. “But it seems like you might like to go somewhere more private.”

You took a shaky breath, not near as deep as you’d have liked it to be. “You sure you’re not projecting?” you whispered, fighting to keep control of yourself. Your willpower seemed to be lacking today, and something about James — who you hadn’t even met up until about ten minutes ago — was especially incendiary.

James simply laughed, the sound of it akin to velvet honey. “Oh, trust me, sweetheart,” he breathed, hand creeping along the counter and brushing your waist as it went. He paused, and seconds later you could feel his teeth gently scrape against your earlobe, tongue leaving hot trails on your skin as he tugged. “I’ve got no problems staying right here.”

Jesus fucking Christ,  _what_   had you gotten yourself into?

“Okay, just... hang on one sec,” you gasped. You hated how desperate you sounded, words shaky and pleading. Was this happening? Were you really going to let this happen, and with a near perfect stranger? “Just slow down a minute.”

James paused, mouth stilling as he waited for an explanation to your request. “Should I stop?” he asked, moving back a few inches to give you some space. “I’m sorry if I overstepped.” That, at least, was reassuring; you might not have known him, but he at least seemed to take consent seriously. If you were going to sleep with some random stranger at a funeral, he may as well be a gentleman.

Shaking your head, you inhaled a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut and concentrating hard. “No, you’re fine, don’t... don’t go anywhere.” You leaned back into him, pressing your back against his chest to reestablish the close proximity. Funny; you could almost feel his delight surging into you, and somehow you could perfectly picture the dazzling smirk that was sure to be on his face. “Just talk me through this really quick, okay?”

James dropped his mouth back down to your neck, leaving a slow, sensuous kiss there. “Shoot.”

“There are... a lot of people about to show up to this service,” you stated. It wasn’t a question, but the hitch in your breath as you attempted to stop yourself from moaning made it sound like one. “Like, a _lot_ of people.”

“Hence why I suggested we go somewhere more private,” James purred, lifting a hand to trace at your collarbone. It was cold and shocking against your skin, and your brain seemed to delay in processing the fact that his fingers were metal. “But, again. I’m willing to risk it if you are.”

Indecent exposure wasn’t exactly something you thought he should be willing to risk, but you let that one go. “And you and I, we just met. We don’t even know anything about each other.”

James hummed, clearly finding joy in all of this. “We know each other’s first names,” he pointed out. “And I know that when I do  _this_ —“ He bit down on your neck, eliciting an obscenely loud moan from deep within your throat. “— _that_ happens .”

Fuck, this wasn’t going in your favor at all. Maybe it was just because you were turned on, or maybe it was because James seemed to have an impressively seductive way with words, but the more you let him speak, the more convinced you were. Deep in your stomach, you already knew what was going to happen here. Your pride would probably take a big hit for it later, but for the next... well, however long this was going to last, you could put those worries out of your mind.

“Last thing,” you promised, clenching your fists in an effort to keep it together. “It’s just... you know, we’re at a funeral. Don’t you think this is kind of sacrilegious?”

“Well,  _technically_ ,” James laughed, “this is a wake. Funeral doesn’t happen for another few hours. And, anyway, something tells me the last thing Steve would have wanted was for us to let him get in the way of our happiness. As for the sacrilege...” He punctuated that thought with another nip at your neck, coaxing a second moan forth before brushing his lips up against your ear once more. “What’s the point of having a savior if we don’t make sins for him to save us from?”

You swallowed thickly, subconsciously leaning back and into his body further. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

Your stomach was dropping with pure excitement, a certain spot between your legs growing warmer and warmer in anticipation. There was no point in pretending you could put this off any longer; it was happening, and both you and James seemed to know it. “A, um... a bathroom might... uh, might be good.”

James’ fingers were crawling up your abdomen now, fingers brushing the crest of your nipple through your dress before his palm fully cupped your breast. “You’re sure?” he whispered, licking a delicate line up your neck from the base of where it met your shoulder. “Be a shame to make you wait any longer than you have to.”

“Then let’s go,” you sighed, having difficulty catching your breath. “I wanna see if your talk matches your game.”

“Honey, please,” he chuckled, moving back just enough to let you slip away from the counter. He followed closely behind you as your body went on autopilot in search of the bathroom, his hands never actually leaving your skin. “You’ve got no idea what I’m about to do to you.”

—

Not two minutes later, you were settled on the cool marble countertop of the second story bathroom, your legs straddling James’ waist as he busied himself with kissing hot trails down your neck, to your chest, migrating to your shoulders. Any place where your skin was bare seemed to be fair game, and the lower he got, the more control you lost. Funny; most men would have gotten down to business by now, but James was taking his sweet time. Like he was playing some kind of game, and driving you out of your fucking mind was the prize.

“You know, for someone who seemed real concerned with getting caught a few minutes ago,” he breathed, smirking up at you from where his mouth was skimming the top curves of your breasts. “You are being _exceptionally_ loud .”

You only blinked, your senses singing almost too loudly to really process his words. “Okay,” you responded, chest heaving as you fought to win back some air. You liked that, even though he was the one taking charge, you still held power yourself. “So find a way to shut me up.”

And then James was laughing, surging up to catch your mouth with his own. Despite the fact that this had all started what seemed like a lifetime ago — when in actuality, it had probably only been about ten minutes — it didn’t escape your notice that this was the first time James had actually kissed you. He made it worth the wait, too, teeth tugging at your bottom lip, tongue teasing at your own. The whole ordeal was surprisingly gentle, truth be told. It wasn’t a bad thing, it was just... James’ look didn’t exactly match the type of lover he was turning out to be. A pleasant surprise, in perfect honesty.

You were shocked out of your thoughts when something cold pressed against your core, and another earth shattering gasp was pulled out of you as your grip on James’ shoulders tightened. In your shock, you had broken the kiss and pulled him forward, damn near hugging him as you realized that the cold between your legs was the metal of his left hand. It was a testament to how smooth his actions were that you hadn’t even noticed when he’d slipped it beneath your skirt.

“Some warning would have been nice,” you gasped, squeezing your eyes shut as you leaned your head against his shoulder and relished in the steady pace he’d set with his fingers.

James dropped another kiss to your neck, this one heated and long suffering. “People who wear dresses this short to a funeral don’t get warnings,” he muttered, thumb rubbing against that especially sensitive area. “Especially if they aren’t wearing underwear.” Your body was reacting violently, legs shaking, muscles tightening, fingers curling into his hair. You were clutching onto this man for dear life, and though you were ashamed to think it, given that you really hadn’t known him long enough to establish an emotional attachment, you were especially frightened of what might happen if you let go.

Warmth was building in the bottom of your stomach, pooling together like water in a glass. Your back was arching, something which seemed to be completely out of your control, and your hips were beginning to subconsciously roll. You were ready for what was coming — aching for it, really — but James seemed to have a few other things in mind.

“Why’d you stop?” you gasped, hating the fact that it sounded as if you were close to tears. His removed his fingers from within you, and you found that you instantly missed the pressure.

“I wanna try something else,” he explained, glancing down momentarily where your hips were rolling against his, desperately searching for any sort of friction.

Oh. Maybe it was his turn. You were enjoying yourself, and it seemed a little rude of him to stop when you were so close to getting off, but fair was fair, after all.

“Okay,” you breathed, detangling your fingers from his hair. You made quick work of reaching for his belt, and you’d only unmanaged to undo the hook before James stopped you. You looked up at him, confused. “What’s up?”

He only shook his head, a teasingly devilish grin on his face. “That’s... not what I meant,” he told you, glancing down once more. When his eyes came back to yours, they’d brightened considerably with mischief. “I’m trying to make a good first impression, aren’t I?”

“So, then, what are you—?”

He silenced you with another heated kiss to your mouth, short and sweet this time. He gave it another second, then moved to your jaw, then trailed down your throat, hit the base of your neck, and took a moment to lick a stripe down your sternum. He seemed to want to pay your breasts some special attention, but they were covered by your dress, and he seemed aware that the two of you didn’t have much more time. Visibly deciding against it, he continued southward, dotting kisses along your abdomen through the fabric of your dress before he finally made it down to your hips. He pushed the fabric of your skirt back, bunching it at your hips with both hands, and carefully parted your legs with a fluid motion of his elbow.

This man was kneeling in front of you, looking up with pleading eyes and a mouth that was eager to please. In that moment, you understood the one thing that he was silently communicating: for the next little while, you were a goddess, and he would do anything and everything to worship your body.

His mouth met your core, eager to get to work and unrelenting, and it was all you could do not to immediately come undone then and there. He made quick work of it all, sucking and swirling and kissing in rapid succession. You were forced to curl a hand into his hair and use the other to fist the shoulder of his jacket, desperate to find something, _anything_ to  hold on to .

“Wait, wait, slow down,” you gasped, having to make an extra effort not to scream. Jesus, this was... something else entirely. At this point, you weren’t even sure you’d ever had sex before; not in the _right_ way , at least. How was it that this man was close to getting you off in less than three minutes flat? “If you don’t stop, I’m gonna... oh my god, wait, I’m gonna—“

“Go ahead,” he murmured against you, swirling his tongue around your clit. “I want you to. Go ahead.”

“I’m gonna.... fuck  _me_ , I—“

And then you were gone, shaking bodily as you began to unravel, some primal instinct pulling a small shout out of your mouth. “ _James_ ,” you cried as he worked you through it, legs clenching around his head. His tongue was still going at it, the stubble of his jaw tickling your inner thighs. “Jesus, oh my...”

James pressed one last kiss to you, then stood, once again coming face to face with you. He rested his forehead against yours, wiping at his face with the back of his hand as he leveled you with an amused gaze. “I’m gonna be honest with you, sweetheart,” he teased, moving your legs to straddle his hips once more. “Jesus doesn’t have shit to do with it.”

You laughed, then, and kissed him happily. Maybe it was just that you were still coming down from your orgasm, or maybe you really did just find James that charming. Either way; you had no qualms about asking for what you wanted next.

“We’re running out of time,” you told him, letting your hands wander down to his belt again. He didn’t stop you this time, and once you managed to undo the zipper of his pants, you set to work immediately. Unsurprisingly, you found that he was already hard. “And I really... I _really_ need  you to fuck me right now.”

“Oh, you  need it, do you?” he murmured into your ear, breathing deeply as he took in the feel of your hold on him. “Enough to beg for it?”

“Whatever the fuck you want me to do,” you gasped. You had already pulled him forward, teasing your entrance with the head of his dick. Excited as you were, you were determined to make it all last a bit longer this round. “You want me to beg, I’ll fucking beg.”

James glanced you up and down, breath accelerating just a touch. Nice to know you were affecting him just as much as he did you. “No, I think we better just get down to it,” he sighed, kissing you once more. He pulled back, looking you dead in the eyes. “Next time I get my hands on you,” he promised, eyes darkening, “I’m gonna tie you down and make you scream louder than you ever thought possible.”

And, because you were an idiot who couldn’t leave well enough alone, you arched a brow. “What makes you think there’s going to be a next time?”

Without warning, he inserted himself into you completely, giving you zero time to adjust before he was pulling back out and slamming into you again. This time you did scream, and as he paused his motions to take in your physical reaction to the feel of him, he laughed at you. “That right there,” he answered, shaking his head.

The pace the two of you were working was a steady one, but James didn’t seem to be able to resist switching it up every few moments. The cycle had started out with slow thrusts, then he’d pick up the pace until you were on the verge of coming again, and once it seemed like you were just about there, he would stop completely, leaving you to whine and moan. You figured you were in for a repeat of that, but then he started out fast and never stopped until you were in danger of losing yourself again. He was toying with you, intentionally driving you crazy, and you fucking loved it.

“I want you to say my name,” he whispered into your ear, moving in and out of you slowly. With each thrust, your back bumped against the mirror, and it was only after the fact that you realized this little affair wasn’t nearly as discrete as you’d been hoping it was. “Say my name, and I’ll let you come.”

“James,” you gasped immediately, hardly able to stand it anymore. “Please, James, please.”

“Say it again,” he commanded you, pushing himself deeper and deeper. “Say it  _again_ .”

“ _James_ ,”  you said again, hips bucking wildly. “James,  _please_ .”

“Tell me you want me,” he growled, picking up his pace. “Tell me how bad you need me.”

At this point, you’d say whatever the fuck he wanted if it meant he never stopped. “I need you,” you gasped out, burying your face into his shoulder. “James, I want you so fucking bad, please. I _need_ you , fuck, I— I’m gonna, oh my god,  _please_ , don’t stop, I—“

And then you were losing yourself all over again, and James was right there with you. The two of you worked each other through your bliss, each touch seeming to send one another further and further into it. There were stars in your eyes and an absence of air in your lungs, and you weren’t sure if James was experiencing the same, but he damn sure seemed to be.

By the time you were finished, the two of you were gasping heavily, James still inside you and your hands still clutching his shoulders. There was wetness between your legs, and James’ strong hands were grabbing onto your hips as he removed himself and zipped his pants, his chest heaving in a mirror image of your own. His eyes were bright, clouded with the afterglow of sex, and the devil may care smirk on his lips was now just as sexy as it was infuriating. “You’re okay?” he asked, caressing your cheek with his knuckles.

“Great,” you laughed breathlessly, still coming out of the shock of it all. “I, um... people are gonna start to wonder why things aren’t ready yet. We should... probably get back down there.”

“I’ll take care of it,” he murmured, stepping forward. He pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, and you couldn’t help the urge to giggle; it was amazing how quickly he could switch from an apparent sex demon to gentility. “You take some time to yourself and get cleaned up.”

“What a gentleman,” you said dryly, rolling your eyes in a good natured fashion.

“I aim to please, darlin’,” he laughed. He left you with one last kiss, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “See you around, Y/n. Hope to hear from you real soon.”

And then he was gone, slipping out of the bathroom and shutting the door quietly behind him, leaving you to revel in the fact that, yes, that had _actually_ just  happened.

—

“Y/n!”

You glanced across the room, finding Wanda trying to wave you over. You smiled, excusing yourself from the stranger you were currently conversing with, and made your way over to her. You had to admit, it was nice to see a familiar face. You might have known Wanda primarily from organizing charity events with her, but she had become something of a personal friend over the last couple of months.

“Hey, Wanda,” you murmured, hugging her closely. You hadn’t seen her since earlier in the morning, and as the grief of other people at the wake shrouded in happiness and revelry began to settle over you, Wanda was a much needed reprieve. “How’s it going?”

“I’m good,” she told you, a forlorn smile on her face. “Just miss him, you know? He was a good friend.”

You nodded, smiling sadly back at her. “I miss him, too,” you told her. It was the truth; you’d only known Steve Rogers a short while, but in that time he had come to be something of a father figure to you. Old age had taken its natural course, but that didn’t make things any less sad.

Wanda cleared her throat, blinking away her tears. “Um, anyway, I wanted to introduce you to a friend. Steve left him in charge of the charity benefits in his will, and I thought it would be good for the two of you to meet, since you’ll be working so close together in the future.” She turned her head, scanning the room until her eyes locked into whoever she was looking for. “Bucky! Come here!”

The one Steve had spent the last few years of his life trying to set you up with. This should be good.

A man, tall and broad shouldered, stepped over to you and Wanda, but once you realized just who he was, your stomach dropped out of you.

James winked at you, a mischievous grin edging at his lips as he came to stand before you. “Hey, Wanda,” he greeted, leaning down to press a friendly kiss to her cheek. “What’s up?”

“I wanted to introduce you to one of my charity partners,” she answered, your shock and surprise seeming to fly over her head completely. “This is Y/n. She runs the charity for kids who were displaced by the snap. A lot of them lost their parents to plane crashes and car crashes when it happened, so she focuses on finding them homes. Hers is the one Steve endorsed the most, and he left you the funds for it in the will.”

“Lovely to meet you, Y/n,” Bucky — or, James? Which was it? — chuckled. Wanda might not have noticed your shift in emotion, but he certainly did. “I’m James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky. I get the feeling that you and I are about to get to know each other pretty well.”


End file.
